Hill of Bones (12 page)

‘So what do you suggest?’ asked Gwenllian.

‘I own some skill in politics,’ said Savaric with a modest shrug. ‘So
I
shall draft the letter you will send the King. I shall phrase your findings in a way that will condemn Pica, but that will not antagonise John. Then we shall both have achieved our objective.’

‘No,’ said Cole uneasily. ‘It smacks of dishonesty and sly dealing.’

Gwenllian laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘Consider our choices, Symon. We can submit our own report, and let John expel you from Carmarthen. Or we can accept Savaric’s help. I do not want to leave our home, and it is not just us who will suffer if you are ejected. The town deserves better than to be ruled by one of John’s creatures.’

Cole nodded reluctant agreement. Then he sat in the window, staring moodily into the street, while Gwenllian and the bishop worked.

Gwenllian felt vaguely tainted by the time they left the Bishop’s Palace. Cole did, too, and was angry about it.

‘What we have done is wrong. Your letter lists all the evidence that proves Pica stabbed Lechlade, but only
hints
that he murdered Adam and Hugh.
Ergo
, he will be charged only with Lechlade’s death – for which he will claim self-defence. And he will go free.’

Gwenllian sighed. ‘Very possibly, but he will never be Abbot of Glastonbury, and
that
will be his real punishment. I hate to admit it, but Savaric’s letter is a masterpiece of duplicity: it lets John know we solved the case, so he cannot accuse us of disobedience, but it does so in such a way that even he cannot take offence. We may keep Carmarthen yet.’

Cole pulled a face to register his distaste. ‘I wish Richard had not died. He was not much of a King, but he was better than the scheming devil we have now.’

‘Not so loud,
cariad
!’

‘I do not care,’ said Cole sullenly. ‘I hate devious politics.’

‘So do I, but we will go home tomorrow, and then we can forget about Bath. However, there is one question we have not yet answered: where did Pica keep this dog? He sleeps in the abbey guesthouse, and someone would have noticed if it was there.’

‘There is only one place it can be – the Prior’s Garden. Do you remember Walter telling us how Reginald built kennels there?’

‘Yes, but he also said they are used for storing the urine that will be used for tanning hides over the winter.’

‘Precisely! A dog will stink if kept in close confinement, and what better than urine to conceal it? Besides, such an unpleasant place will deter visitors. Shall we go there now?’

He led the way to an attractive arbour that was separated from the rest of the precinct by a wall. Once inside, it did not take them long to locate the row of sheds. They reeked, and Gwenllian gagged. Cole opened a door, and was greeted by a medley of snarls and grunts.

‘It has been starved,’ he said, disgusted, ‘and kept close-chained. It is muzzled, too, so it cannot bark. Pica is a monster to have done such a thing.’

Gwenllian poked her head around the door and saw an enormous grey animal. Before she could advise against it, Cole had removed the muzzle and was feeding it scraps of the dried meat he always carried with him – no soldier liked to be without supplies.

‘Please do not let it off the leash,’ she begged. ‘It looks half mad to me.’

‘It will have to be destroyed,’ said Cole sadly. ‘What a pity! It was once a fine animal.’

Walter’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment when he learned what had been happening in his domain, although his surprise quickly turned to indignation.

‘How dare Pica use my outbuildings for his private menagerie – especially for a beast that has claimed the lives of two men. What if it had escaped? It might have attacked me.’

‘Yes,’ said Cole, and Gwenllian was under the impression that he wished it had. ‘But it would have been Pica’s fault, not the dog’s.’

‘I suppose it would.’ Walter softened. ‘I shall tell Eldred to feed it well tonight, and dispatch it tomorrow. Do not worry, he will not let it suffer.’

Cole nodded, although Gwenllian could see he was not much comforted. They left the abbey in silence, and it was some time before he spoke.

‘Are you sure Pica is the culprit? Dacus seems a much more likely candidate for abusing animals than he.’

‘He does,’ agreed Gwenllian, taking his arm sympathetically. ‘But yes, I am sure.’

‘Then I suppose you must be right,’ said Cole, a little resentfully. ‘You usually are.’

It was the deepest part of the night when Gwenllian woke to find herself alone. There was a full moon, and its silvery rays had fallen on her face. She rose and dressed, supposing Cole was in the tavern downstairs, drinking to wash away the dirty taste of politics, but the place was empty. Her stomach lurched when she realised where he had gone. She hurried to Iefan, and shook him awake.

‘I think Symon has gone up Solsbury Hill.’

Iefan blinked. ‘Why would he do that?’

‘Because Dacus challenged him to go. He was unhappy earlier, and I am afraid that if Dacus is there and makes wild remarks about Adam . . . Will you come with me?’

As Cole still had Iefan’s sword, the sergeant borrowed another, and they set off to where the hill was a black mass against the night sky. The moonlight made walking easy, and it was not long before they reached the bottom. Then there was a peculiar howl.

‘Was that a wolf ?’ asked Iefan uneasily.

‘Hurry!’ urged Gwenllian, breaking into a run.

They were breathless by the time they reached the top. Cole was there, sword in his hand, and at first, Gwenllian assumed he was alone, but then she glimpsed a movement in the shadows. It was Dacus, gripping the leash of Pica’s dog. She was glad it was upwind of her, sure it would attack if it could sense her fear. She crouched down, straining to hear what was being said. The wind that kept the dog from catching their scent also blew the words towards her.

‘You came,’ Dacus was saying. ‘I did not think you would have the courage. I thought I would have to find another way to kill you.’

‘Why would you want to kill me?’ Cole asked quietly.

‘Because you are corrupt.’ Dacus’ voice was hard and cold. ‘I know what you did today. You helped Savaric concoct a tale that will conceal the unsavoury happenings at Bath and let Pica take the blame. But you are Adam’s friend, so what else should I expect?’

‘Adam was not corrupt.’

‘He was evil!’ Dacus’ anguished cry set the dog growling. ‘He poisoned Reginald. I know – I was there.’

‘He was a healer. He would never—’

‘He
was
a healer, and that is why he itched to be master of the hospital. But Reginald was master as well as bishop. So Adam killed him.’

‘But Adam did not want that post,’ argued Cole. ‘He wrote and told me. He was old and tired, and wanted to spend his final days in prayer.’

‘You are wrong! He was evil and a killer.’

‘My wife always insists on evidence to support that sort of claim. So what is yours? Did you find toxins in his possession? Did you see him administer a dose of—’

Dacus made a curious hissing sound, and jerked the dog’s leash. ‘I do not need evidence. I know a guilty man when I see one. But you will regret coming here tonight. Like Adam and Hugh, you will be tested and found lacking. I will kill you, just as I killed them.’

In the darkness, Gwenllian gaped in disbelief.

‘But there cannot be a third man found with his throat ripped out,’ Dacus went on. ‘So I have dug you a grave.’

He nodded to a gaping pit Gwenllian had not noticed before. It was black and sinister in the moonlight, like an opening to Hell.

‘I knew you had murdered Adam from the first time we met,’ said Cole. ‘My wife said they were cat hairs on your habit, but I knew they belonged to a dog.’

‘It is not a dog, it is a wolf.’ Dacus ruffled the beast’s fur. It twisted around, as if to bite, and he tightened his grip on its collar. ‘And when I saw Pica training it to kill lambs, I knew what I had to do. I stole it from Savaric’s palace.’

‘Pica must have hoped it would hurt the bishop,’ muttered Gwenllian to Iefan. ‘He may be innocent of killing Hugh and Adam, but he has committed many other crimes.’

‘You hid it in Reginald’s kennels,’ said Cole. ‘Muzzling it, so it could not bark—’

‘I have not fed it since you arrived,’ interrupted Dacus, tightening the lead savagely. ‘It is ravenous. It will tear your throat out, and I will dance in your blood.’

To Gwenllian’s horror, Cole laid his sword in the grass, then raised his hands to show he was unarmed. ‘Enough, Dacus. Listen to me. Adam did not kill Reginald. No one did. It
was
a fever. I spoke to his physicians yesterday, and—’

‘Liar!’ hissed Dacus. ‘God thought I was right to kill Adam, because He immediately started granting miracles at Reginald’s tomb. Reginald was like a father to me, and Adam
deserved
to die for killing him. And so did Hugh, for asking too many questions.’

‘Neither of them—’

‘Kill him!’ screamed Dacus, unhooking the leash. He kicked the dog to start it moving.

Cole did not move as the animal bounded towards him. Dacus was hot on its heels, whipping it with the lead. At that moment, the moon went behind a cloud. Gwenllian abandoned her hiding place and stumbled forward, fighting off Iefan’s restraining hands. She could see nothing in the sudden darkness, but there were snarls, an agonised scream, a yelp and silence. The moon emerged again to reveal Cole standing in the same place, and Dacus on the ground with the dog lying across him. She hurried forward, Iefan close behind her. Cole spun around in alarm at the sound of their footsteps.

‘You should not be here!’ he cried in horror. ‘It might have attacked you.’

‘Iefan has a sword to protect us,’ countered Gwenllian. She glared at him. ‘Unlike you.’

Cole showed her the dagger he had concealed in his hand. ‘It posed no threat to me. Besides, Dacus maltreated it, and it was only a matter of time before it turned on him.’

‘But you could not have known that would happen tonight,’ shouted Gwenllian, angry with him. ‘You took a foolish, reckless risk.’

Cole regarded her irritably. ‘I did nothing of the kind. I
know
dogs, and as long as I posed no threat, I was safe enough. However, I imagine Hugh and Adam ran when they saw it, and it instinctively homed in on a moving target. And tonight, it was Dacus who was running.’

Gwenllian was unconvinced, and was about to say so when Iefan spoke.

‘It will not be biting anyone else,’ he said, struggling to haul the carcass from Dacus’ body. ‘He stabbed it with this peculiar knife.’

Cole took the weapon from him, and inspected it in the moonlight. Its blade was of such fine steel that it was almost blue, and the handle was ivory, carved with what appeared to be a bear climbing a tree. ‘It is soil-stained – he must have unearthed it when he dug the grave.’

But Gwenllian was more interested in Dacus. She knelt next to him, fighting off her revulsion for him and what he had done. ‘Help me, Symon. He still breathes.’

‘You passed Solsbury’s test,’ Dacus whispered weakly, as Cole crouched by his side. ‘I was wrong . . . about you. Will you . . . do something for me?’

‘Very well,’ agreed Cole, before Gwenllian could urge caution. ‘What?’

‘Do not bury me . . . near Adam. Somewhere else.’

He closed his eyes, and the breath left him in a hiss.

For a moment, no one spoke, then Cole stood and lifted Dacus in his arms. Gwenllian thought he was going to carry him back to the town, but he stopped next to the pit.

‘Is this a good idea?’ she asked nervously, as he laid Dacus in the hole and placed the dog at his side. ‘If anyone were to find him . . .’

‘No one will find him,’ said Cole, setting the peculiar weapon on Dacus’ chest and picking up a spade. ‘And it is time he had some peace.’

III

Carmarthen

The return journey was quicker and more comfortable than the outward one, and Gwenllian’s spirits soared when she saw Carmarthen’s familiar walls and roofs in the distance. There had been no word from the King, and while Cole believed this to be a sign that Savaric’s letter had worked, she was uneasy. John was vengeful, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he remembered that Carmarthen was held by a man who had declined to flatter him.

‘I should have listened to you,’ she said, as they travelled the last mile. ‘Your instincts about Dacus were right, and my logic was wrong. However, I am still vexed with you for going up Solsbury Hill to confront that wolf.’

‘It was a dog. Still, I suppose some good came out of our investigation. Savaric dismissed Walter, and appointed Robert as prior instead.’

‘Robert is a better man. Although I still think his piety is insincere.’

‘Others think so, too,’ said Cole with a conspiratorial grin. ‘On the grounds that there have been no miracles at Reginald’s tomb since he was appointed.’

Gwenllian hesitated, but then forged on. ‘There is something I should tell you. I did not mention it sooner, because I did not want to return to Bath . . .’

‘What?’ asked Cole uneasily. ‘Was it something in that letter you received in Brecon – the one you told me contained only a copy of the message we sent to John?’

Gwenllian nodded. ‘It was from Savaric. Pica managed to escape from the abbey cells, and is on his way to tell the Pope that he is innocent of killing Lechlade – and that he should be Abbot of Glastonbury into the bargain.’

Cole reined in. ‘Should we go after him? The man is a killer.’

‘Savaric sent Walter to do it.’

‘And Walter agreed?’

‘Of course – hoping to grease his way back into favour.’ Gwenllian indicated that Cole should begin riding again. ‘And the matter is no longer our concern, anyway. We did what the King asked, and we are likely to bring ourselves trouble if we dabble further.’

They rode in silence for a while. Then Cole pointed suddenly. ‘Look!’

A small party of riders was coming to welcome them home, and Gwenllian was sure she could see one of the soldiers carrying their infant son.

‘I know Walter confessed to fabricating those miracles,’ said Cole, ‘and that nothing divine has ever happened at Reginald’s tomb. But before we left, I asked Reginald a second time to provide us with a daughter, and I think he will oblige.’